Roommate Wanted
by lovingcaptainswan
Summary: Belle answers an ad for a flat. Lighthearted pre-Scarlet Beauty fluff. Modern AU. Oneshot.


"So, this is the place."

He introduces the flat matter of factly, with false pretenses in neither body language nor tone – though from the look of it, the place certainly seems worthy of at least a _little bit_ of talking up (at least if he wants to rent it out anytime soon).

Belle follows him through what appears to the be the living room, notably so by the ratty brown sofa in the center of it that looks like it's seen better days (that it has seen very, _very_ good days, actually, most likely in the university day room - eugh) and a humble-looking sort of entertainment system (woodshop project?) complete with television and a messy stack of video games.

For a man trying to rent out a room, he hadn't exactly gone out of his way to fix up the place had he? She frowns at a stain on the carpet when her host isn't looking.

Well, to each their own. It's not as if either of them seem to have very much money and you make do with what you can, now don't you?

"Oi, well, this is the kitchen. Pretty simple, really. Fridge, microwave, dishwasher," he points at each appliance as he speaks, "- it mostly manages to do the job, but the last flatmate through here - bit of a bastard, really - kept puttin' too much soap in so now it makes this awful bloody gurgly sound when it's on. Still works though. Just the usual stuff, eh?"

Belle presses her lips into a smile and nods politely. Making an effort to walk around a bit, she pretends to scan the cupboard space casually, as if plotting studiously whether or not all of her favorite, antique teacups would fit next to his collection of souvenir shot glasses on the second shelf.

She's thinking nothing of the sort. This is _clearly_ not the place for her, but the least she can do is be polite and finish the tour.

Besides, he's kind of cute..and he may or may not have complimented her name over the phone in the most adorable manner that a man pointedly _not_ obviously flirting with her or being a pig had ever done, so finish the tour she shall.

When she had been told that the university housing was completely full, she had been scrambling, originally hoping to find a small, quiet flat with another woman, maybe even two if necessary. It's been a couple of weeks now and she is running out of time. She had answered a Will Scarlet's ad out of desperation and here she was. Strangely, there's something about him that she can't quite put her finger on, but it's there, and it's…pleasant.

She in the middle of carefully "examining" the stove and oven and he is chatting happily about some hideous sounding cooking incident that left it smelling like cheese of all things when it hits her.

 _That's_ what she likes about him.

It's the real honesty and sincerity with which he shows her the place, no awkward flirting while showing her the bedroom – which she's actually gotten a couple of times now – no lies. Just here it is and I hope that you like it. Even if it _is_ a terrible flat, the way he presents it almost makes her wish that it _wasn't_. That's it. Not just his face (even if she doesn't really mind that either). He seems kind. Honest.

(Lord knows she could use that in her life right about now.)

Sadly, as nice as he appears to be, he's clearly done a number on this place (or his past roommates have) and who knows what he'd be like to live with? No, this place just isn't right. Belle French has always been neat and tidy and quiet and this place reeks of uni parties and frat boys and unmentionable not quite so unidentifiable stains on furniture.

And so it appears that she'll still be on her never-ending flat hunt the rest of the weekend.

She allows them to move on from the kitchen, passing by what she presumes is his bedroom (she most _definitely_ doesn't try to sneak a peek through the cracked open door as they pass by) and to the empty guest bedroom.

The state of the rest of the place aside, _this_ is actually quite perfect. In fact, it looks entirely different from the flat that she's seen. It's quaint - small, but not too small. She would have her own bathroom, a fairly sized closet, a comfortable amount of walking space once the bed was there, but the best is a large bookcase built into the far wall and a plush ( _old_ , but plush) window seat beneath a medium sized view overlooking the university in the distance.

(Well. This almost makes up for- no, no, you don't, Belle. You can find something just as good, better than this, if you just keep at it. _But the bookcase!_ )

"That's pretty much it then, 'less you want me to show ya the loo.."

His voice snaps her out of her thoughts. "Oh, I—no. Thank you."

She smiles again in his direction, unable to keep herself from going to the bookcase and tracing the aged wooden shelves, this time _actually_ imagining her boxes upon boxes of classics fitting perfectly, each in its own place.

"It might not be much to look at and it ain't the biggest, but it does its job, mostly… kinda like me," Will chuckles, scratching at his ear and glancing away as soon as he says it, as if immediately regretting that _particular_ choice of words.

Belle widens her eyes, biting her lip and quickly looking back towards the window to keep from giggling or smiling too obviously at his fumbling attempts. Was that– is he…flirting with her?

She can feel herself beginning to flush at just the idea and the way that he's gone about it.

"So—uh," he shuffles almost nervously in place as she politely turns back and he meets her gaze with his big, brown eyes and she truly hopes that she isn't still blushing because that would just be embarrassing. "What'cha think?"

Belle freezes. She can't tell him what she really thinks, at least not of the rest of the house, but if only she could take this room and put it into another flat…

"Ya don't like it, do ya?" He saves her from having to say anything at all, his face breaking out into a broad grin, with a shrug and a shake of his head. "It's alright. No one does. It's not really a place for a proper lady anyway, I guess. Bit of a man-cave."

A proper- _well_ then. The flush comes back, this time fully. She can feel it burning her cheeks.

"I _do_ like the room," she admits, gazing longingly back at the bookshelf and then the window seat. She can imagine lounging there with her studies or one of her old favorite books that she's reading for the seventh or eighth time and how it's still just as good as the first time for a relaxing afternoon. "But I _was_ looking for a woman to share some place with, I just saw your ad and thought I'd come take a look. I'm sorry for- for wasting your time. I do hope it wasn't an inconvenience."

He shrugs, still smirking at her. "It's no problem. Give me somethin' to do with me day, I guess."

Belle raises a brow at this, smiling back playfully. "You don't have anything better to do with your day than show your home to random applicants?"

Will shakes his head, shrugging again. "Not such nice ones…or pretty ones." (There's that nervous ear scratch.) "Sorry. That wasn't-"

"No." She stops him, not minding so much anymore that she's openly blushing, smiling at him softly as she looks between him and the window. "No, it's alright. I- listen, this place may not be the best fit for me…but did you want to maybe…get some lunch?"

His eyes practically bulge out of his head as if this is the last thing that he expected to hear after what he seems to assume was him making a right fool of himself.

"I do like the room," she goes on without giving him time to answer. "Maybe you can sell me on its charms?"

Will grins back at her sheepishly. "Well. Bloody hell. Can't say no to that, can I?"


End file.
